


I will take care of you

by BlackKoshka23



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom
Genre: Childhood Friends, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKoshka23/pseuds/BlackKoshka23
Summary: You receive an unexpected but very pleasant visit on New Year's Eve.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/You
Kudos: 9





	I will take care of you

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction using the likeness of our beloved Timothée. Anything depicted here is just that and I do not claim to know him nor any person close to him. It's just a little cute story I felt like writing.  
> I hope you enjoy it, and as always, I apologize for any mistakes, as English is not my mother tongue.  
> Feel free to leave kudos and comment :)  
> PS: The nickname Blitty is a portmanteau of "black kitty". Sorry if you don't like black cats, but I do, very much.

You were so sick you could barely hold any food on your stomach. You didn’t know what had got you that sick, but four days before Christmas day, you found yourself throwing up the dinner and hadn’t been well since.

The night of the New Years Eve, your mom brought you your dinner, consisting of boiled rice and boiled chicken, but also a surprise.

—Hey! Cheer up, I bring you company!—she said—Remember Timothée?

Well, of course you remembered him, how could you forget your best friend? It had been a while since you two have seen each other or even talked to each other, but he had been your childhood best friend and you had very good memories with him.

—Hi!—he said, peeking from behind your mother.

He was so tall now! You two had been almost the same height until his 11th birthday when he began to surpass you at an alarming rate. He crossed the room in a couple of steps and sat on your desk chair.

—I’ll leave you two alone—said your mother, leaving the tray with your food on your nightstand.

—You’re so tall now and I’m still the same old me: short and ug…

—Don’t say the u-word—he said, interrupting you—. You’re not and you’ve never been.

—Are you sure of that?

—Yes. You just feel that way because you’re sick and you feel gross, but it will go away the second you feel better—he assured you.

—Okay, I believe you. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were in France or something.

—I just wanted to see you—he shrugged.

There was a moment of silence while you ate. Those years he was away, he didn’t contact you, not once. But seeing that was before the massive spread of internet and social media, it was kind of understandable.

—You know, I found my mum’s old address book and called… you know, just to see if you still had the same phone number, and luckily, you do—he said, smiling.

—I’ve missed you.

—I’ve missed you too—he said. His face changed then: his smile faded and he seemed to be devastated—. I am sorry, I should’ve tried harder to find you, to make time to at least come here and see if you were still in the same spot…

—No, don’t do that—this time was your turn to interrupt him—. It’s not your fault. Life drove us apart, but now you’re here and it’s all that matters to me right now.

—Do you remember the last Christmas we shared?—he asked then.

—I do. Our families went on vacation together and you broke your leg skiing.

—Yeah, and you took care of me like you were a professional nurse—he laughed at the memory of you being all strict with him, so afraid he would hurt himself again—. I forgot about it for years, but a couple of weeks ago, Pauline developed a photo reel that remained forgotten in a box and the pictures were made during that trip. I remember now.

—What do you remember, Timothée?—you asked, almost scared of his answer.

It was a bit foggy since it happened twelve years ago and you didn’t remember if you did something embarrassing. You prayed that you did not.

—All of it, all the details that had slipped my mind—he said, inching closer, still sitting on the swivel chair—. You drew a heart on my cast with a red marker and kissed me. I guess you wanted to go for the lips but you ended up kissing the corner of my mouth. Then you ran away and I couldn’t follow you, obviously, so I remained there, dumbfounded about what had happened. It took me a good ten minutes to process it, and then I wanted to ask you about it, but you wouldn’t even look at me. I thought you were angry at me.

You remember now that he mentioned it. You hid your face behind your hands, feeling the heat pooling on your face.

—I was so embarrassed I had missed your lips!—you said, finally looking at him—I wasn’t angry at you but at myself.

—Did you love me?—he wanted to know.

—With all my twelve-years-old heart.

—Oh, Blitty!—he sighed.

Your heart skipped a beat when he mentioned your old childhood nickname. He bent over to kiss you, but you put your hand between your mouths and stopped him. You wanted to kiss him so badly it pained you having to stop him.

—You can’t do that, I don’t want you to get sick too—you said.

—Okay, but you’re not going to get rid of me so easily, Blitty—he playfully threatened.

He watched you while you eat, smiling and making small talk, though it was more of a monologue. You just had to smile and nod from time to time. He then peeled your apple and cut it for you like you had done for him when you were twelve.

—Do you want a slice?—you asked, offering him part of your apple.

—I will take one tiny bit, thank you.

None of you talked while you munched on the apple, even if he finished his bit much earlier.

—You really are a woman now—he said when you swallowed the last bit of fruit.

—What does that mean, Timmy?

He usually didn’t like people calling him that anymore, but it felt right if you said it, so he didn’t complain.

—You’ve grown up. I mean, obviously, you did, but you’re so different now. I remember you hated long hair and you didn’t have… curves back then—you laughed; well, duh, you hadn’t gone through puberty yet back then—. Your face is the same, though, just more defined. I like your face a lot.

—I like your face a lot too—you replied.

He sat on the bed by your side and leaned over again, this time to kiss your forehead.

—I will take care of you, okay?—he said, hugging you.

—Thank you.

You two caught up, talking about your teenage years, future plans, partners… you were surprised to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend recently.

—Why? You two seemed like the perfect couple.

—I know. And we were happy but… we want different things in life—he said—. But now I can pursue you.

—Me?

—Why do you think I wanted to kiss you?—he asked, kind of amused.

—I don’t know, to right a wrong?

—You know, for a Newyorker, you’re too naïve sometimes—he laughed.

—I don’t think that’s naivety.

—No, no, you’re right. That’s because you underestimate yourself. But I’m going to prove you wrong.

You were going to reply, but your mother entered the room with a glass of champagne to him and a glass of apple juice to you.

—I thought you two may want to have a toast for the New Year.

She put the glasses on your hands and left as quickly as she had arrived.

—It’s nearly midnight—he said—. Do you want to count the seconds with me?

—Of course.

So you counted, and toasted, and before you could stop him, Timothée kissed you. His lips were burning hot, like a fever, but they also were sweet and tender, so smooth against yours.

—You will be sick tomorrow—you warned him.

—I don’t care. I finally had my Christmas kiss, and I intend it to be the first of many.

—Okay, but wait until I feel better—you half-joked.

—I will behave, I promise. —Then his phone rang—. Sorry, I have to take this.

He went out of the room to talk, leaving you alone for a moment. You didn’t have time to think about what happened and he was already back.

—I have to go, Blitty, I’m sorry.

—It’s okay, I’m feeling rather sleepy—you said.

—See you tomorrow?—he asked. You nodded and he bent over, to kiss your forehead once more—I love you, Blitty.

—I love you too, Timmy.


End file.
